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It turns out the most luxurious possession is that night spent listening to music.
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Why does our time slip away and never return?
The taste of grandma is the coordinates of home
A bowl of instant noodles, a truthful word—may our friendship last forever.
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The longing for zongzi is called childhood
The promise makes parting something to look forward to
Kids, slow down a bit—the road ahead won't be easy.
When I was little, I was so stupid that I looked forward to growing up.
We can't have both a childhood and a sense of childhood.
The red oil soup bowl is filled with the hot summer fireworks
The wind blows the rice paddies, busy but not confused
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If time could go back, what age would you most like to go back to?
Holding the old wreath in hand, the smile spreads in the memory
The egg cake softened and our awkwardness melted away
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A small house with a homely feel
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